Jackson Free Press

On Feb 4, I went to the Wild Beast Feast 2005 at Broadmoor Baptist Church in Madison with about 1,000 other men, and only men. At 6 p.m., I showed up in my conservative-looking plaid dress shirt, pleated khakis and Timberland boots—my usual attire for a Friday night. The Men's Ministry put on a show similar to the Promise Keepers. Heck, they even had an ad for the Promise Keepers (http://www.pk.org) in the back of their program, which also had a moose in crosshairs on the cover.

I quickly found that I was overdressed: There were more Wranglers, camouflage and caps with fishing hooks than you can imagine. It was like going to a Buck and Bass convention, not a church. Out of the 1,000 men there, I counted only four black men, including mayoral candidate Frank Melton.

Upon my arrival, I was handed a name tag reading, "Passionately Pursuing God's Vision for Life"; the men handing those out were standing next to about 20 mounted and stuffed animals. I'm talking taxidermy city here. Part of the feast was giving out prizes for the Biggest Mammal and Biggest Fish someone had bagged and stuffed. The men and their sons were flocking to the "exhibit" like women flocking to Barnes & Noble to buy Oprah's next recommendation.

I stood in line for 45 minutes to get a Styrofoam plate piled with meat donated (and presumably killed) by 45 donors—and I do mean meat. On my plate lay braised rabbit, wild boar enchiladas, venison Sloppy Joes, southern fried deer steak, venison sausage, elk, alligator, wild turkey, duck, dove and bison. Not a vegetable or starch in sight. And of course, we had tea. I enjoyed the deer and venison Sloppy Joes.

The event reminded of my days at Youth Evangelism Conferences when I was younger. Whoever was speaking on the stage in front of the praise band had the attention of the audience like he was their drillmaster. If he laughed, they laughed. If he clapped, they clapped. If he looked up at God, so did they. It was like watching a hypnotism.

Soon, an upcoming Every Man's Battle meeting was announced to help the men fight the sexual temptations hoisted on them by the media and such. "From the TV to the Internet, print media to videos, men are constantly faced with the assault of sexual images. It is impossible to avoid such temptations … but, this study teaches you to rise above them and keep your eyes and hearts pure in a world that is both sensual and sexual," a handout said.

More then anything, the meat meet reminded me why I left the Southern Baptist Church. I strongly believed in SBC doctrine, so much so that I was actually licensed as a Southern Baptist minister (never ordained, however) at age 17, thinking this would be my life's path. I believed there was a lot of good in the evangelicals and the people who taught and believed in the Baptist faith and message.

I quickly found there was no room for people who weren't upper-middle class, white and straight. I didn't go to church with poor people, blacks, Hispanics or Asians. I damn sure didn't go to church with gays. But I did worship with adulterers, divorcees and even a wife-beater. The man that "saved" me, a once-prominent Southern Baptist minister in Tennessee is now an adulterer, a divorcée and a Mormon.

I would love to come back to a Southern Baptist Church that embraces everyone for who they are, a church that doesn't hate them for the exact same reason. But I don't see it happening. Hence, I have to look toward the Episcopalians—people who will embrace you for your differences and who will go out of their way to show divorcées, gays, blacks or whomever that they welcome diversity and differing points of view.

As a child, the Southern Baptist Church gave me much joy. But looking back, we didn't share the same values. They didn't believe in diversity or welcoming others. They didn't practice the unconditional love that they taught. But they did believe in coming together for a big show on Sundays, and shooting and stuffing any animal that stepped into their path.